Touch
by ItalianCrybaby
Summary: Alfred has always loved Arthur and the effect his touch has on him. But how far is Alfred willing to go to ensure that he, and he alone, remains the only one to be blessed by such a touch? Written for USUK Exchange (Rated M for Violence. USUK, slight RusAme, slight FrUK)


**Hello there everyone. This is a story I wrote for a USUK Exchange on Tumblr. It was written for the very lovely Yao-Braginsky and if anyone has a Tumblr then I highly suggest you follow this wonderful person.**

**Oh! And the idea for this story was actually given to me by a friend who told me about a story she read called "The Collector". **

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Alfred couldn't find the words to describe how displeased he was. More than displeased really. He was upset. Livid. Enraged!<p>

Hurt…

The American couldn't understand how it could've come to this. For so long he had loved and admired his dear friend, Arthur Kirkland. The man was a great treasure that Alfred gave constant thanks for everyday. The man himself and everything he touched was like gold to Alfred.

Well... everything but this newcomer currently wrapped in the British man's arms.

Alfred turned his head away to avoid the scene before him.

The American sat back in the front seat of his car as the couple he was spying on disappeared into Arthur's apartment. He didn't know how it could have possibly come to this or how this obsession with Arthur Kirkland even started.

Alfred tightly closed his eyes as he tried to think, tried to let his mind drift away from the hurt he was currently feeling. He let his mind drift back to the days where he had Arthur all to himself… back to when this obsession began.

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><p>~Elementary School~<p>

"Alfred?" A soft accented voice called out and reverberated off the bathroom walls.

Alfred curled into himself as he sat in his hiding spot (a stall in one of the school's restrooms) and hoped the person who had just entered would go away.

"Alfred I know you're in here." The voice said as the person walked closer to his stall. "I can see your Captain USA sneakers."

"Captain _America_!" Alfred couldn't help but point out in irritation.

"Aha! I knew it was you in there." The voice said proudly when Alfred had let his presence be known. The boy halted in front of the stall. "Will you come out? You left your glasses on the playground."

"I'm _not_ coming out, Arthur!" Alfred answered angrily. "And you can throw those away. I don't need them anymore."

"_Really_?" Arthur questioned sarcastically. Alfred could swear the boy was rolling his eyes on the other side of that stall door. "I find it amazing that you no longer need your spectacles after only one day of wearing them. Who knew someone's eyesight could improve so quickly?"

Alfred huffed in irritation. He lifted himself off his seat to open the stall door. On the other side, Arthur was waiting for him and holding his glasses delicately in his hands.

"I don't _want_ them anymore. **Ok**?" Alfred finally replied as he half heartedly glared with puffy eyes at the Brit.

Arthur's eyes softened at the sight of Alfred. It was obvious the other boy had been crying, but he chose not to point it out.

"Why not?… This doesn't have anything to do with what Ivan said, does it?"

Alfred bit his lip as fresh tears brimmed his eyes. It hurt him to be reminded of his now ex-best friend.

"He said he didn't want to be friends with me anymore." Alfred said miserably. "He said he could never be friends with a four eyes!"

Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance and crossed his arms.

"Forget about him." Arthur told Alfred sternly. "He's just a prat. You don't need someone like him as a friend."

"Yeah, I know. But _no one_ is gonna want to be my friend if I have to wear those stupid glasses." Alfred argued with a pout as he glared at those accursed glasses in Arthur's hand.

Arthur remained quite. The other boy uncrossed his arms to look at Alfred's glasses thoughtfully. It wasn't long before he spoke again.

"You know…" Arthur started off with a crooked smile. "I've always thought the most interesting people wore glasses…"

There was silence again. Arthur obviously wanted to be prodded to continue and Alfred, feeling curious, decided to do so.

"What kind of interesting people?" Alfred asked with a raised brow.

Arthur grinned wider and waved his hand nonchalantly as he continued, "Oh you know. Just the heroic kind of people."

_Heroic kind?!_

Alfred's eyes widened at the mention of heroes. Now Arthur definitely had his attention.

Arthur pretended to not notice Alfred's expression as he talked on. "Harry Potter is my favorite wizard hero, and he never removes his glasses. Then I know you like that one Superman bloke. And I know he wears glasses too."

Alfred had completely forgotten that Superman wore glasses. And although Alfred knew Harry Potter wasn't a superhero, he was still a hero none the less in his stories.

"Heh… I didn't really think of that." Alfred admitted with a slight smile of his own. He looked at his glasses that were still being held by Arthur and started seeing them in a new light. "I guess glasses aren't all that bad."

"See?" Arthur said proudly. He unfolded Alfred's glasses and, without any warning, placed them gently on the American's face.

Alfred stiffened when he felt Arthur's fingers graze the sides of his face. Arthur's touch sent a jolt through him. It made him feel breathless and caused his previously saddened heart to jump in his chest. It felt almost… magical.

And it was over much too soon.

Arthur, not noticing Alfred's reaction, took a step back to look the other boy over.

"There. You actually look better with your glasses. And I bet you can see a lot better too." Arthur complimented with an approving look.

Alfred blushed and began to stammer.

"Th-th-thank you, Arthur." Alfred finally managed to say. He stared down at his feet, suddenly feeling too self-concious with the green eyes seeking his own.

"You're quite welcome." Arthur replied. Although he tried not to show it, it was obvious the Brit was pleased with himself for helping Alfred. "We should get back now. Recess is almost over. Come on."

Alfred followed Arthur when the other boy motioned him to.

As they walked back to the playground together, Alfred lifted a carful hand to touch his glasses. The very glasses that were held by Arthur. The boy with a magical touch.

Although Alfred didn't quite know how to explain it, he no longer felt like these glasses were the cursed friend repellant he had thought them to be. Now they were made special. They were made special by one touch from Arthur Kirkland.

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><p>~Middle School~<p>

"You're a bloody idiot!" Arthur chastised angrily.

Alfred groaned in pain. He and Arthur were in the American's living room. Alfred lay on the couch holding an ice pack against his throbbing cheek while Arthur paced the room fuming.

"Why the bloody hell would you get into a fight with Braginsky?! Are you _that_ daft?!" Arthur nearly yelled as he waved his hands around to emphasize his anger.

Alfred growled when Ivan was mentioned.

"He was being a jerk." Alfred grumbled from his seat.

Ever since the day Ivan stopped being friends with Alfred, the American had decided to spend all of his time with Arthur. And the Russian hated it! For some reason, Ivan started bullying Alfred and provoking him to fight. Usually, Alfred had Arthur there to calm him down and stop him from fighting with Ivan, but Arthur wasn't there to stop him today…

"He's always a jerk!" Arthur stopped his pacing to snap his head towards Alfred. "He's always finding new ways to taunt you! What I would like to know is what made today so different. What did he say to make you pounce on him like that?!"

Alfred glared at one of the pillows on the couch and mumbled an inaudible reply.

"I can't hear you when you mumble, Alfred. Speak up!"

"He was making fun of you!" Alfred snapped at his friend.

Arthur's stern look disappeared at that. His eyes widened and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" The Brit questioned.

"Ivan was making fun of your eyebrows and he called you mean names." Alfred begrudgingly explained. "I didn't like him talking about you like that, so I kicked his ass." Alfred looked intently at one of the couch cushions. He suddenly felt nervous to see Arthur's reaction to what he just said.

Arthur looked away and pursed his lips when a small smile threatened to creep onto his face.

"That was still very foolish of you to fight with him…" Arthur tried to continue sounding stern, but there was no harshness in his voice. "But thank you for sticking up for me."

Alfred replied with another grumble. He was still looking down and hoped Arthur wouldn't see his blush. But because he had his face turned, he did not notice that Arthur had moved and was now standing directly in front of him.

"How's your face feeling?"

Alfred jumped (not expecting to hear Arthur's voice that close so suddenly) and dropped the ice pack. He winced when the he lost the coolness of the pouch from his aching cheek.

"Hmm… looks like the swelling has gone down quiet a bit. I didn't notice you had busted your lip though." Arthur said as he examined Alfred's face and frowned. The Brit removed a handkerchief from his pocket, licked it, and then used it to wipe some dried blood off of Alfred's lip.

Alfred stiffened at the contact. There it was again. The jolt from all those years ago was back. Only now, it felt more intensified!

Of course he still felt the same breathlessness as he had felt before and, as Arthur's fingers brushed gently over his lips, Alfred even felt his heart jump as it did the first time. But now, Alfred felt warmth from Arthur's touch. It was a comforting warmth that burned into his veins and coursed thorough his body. Acting like an analgesic drug.

"Oh damn!" Arthur cursed loudly, pulling Alfred out of the trance he was in. Much to Alfred's disappointment, Arthur pulled away and even dropped his handkerchief as he did so. His eyes were focused upon the clock hanging upon the wall. "I didn't notice the time! I have to go home and finish typing up my English paper."

Alfred stared at Arthur, still slightly dazed, as the other boy hurriedly grabbed his school bag.

"Sorry for having to leave you like this." Arthur apologized, already halfway to the door. "I'll call you later to see how you're doing. In the mean time, find something to put on that busted lip of yours. You don't want to get an infection."

Before Alfred could utter a single word to bid the Brit goodbye, Arthur was already gone.

Sinking deep into the cushions of his couch, the American sighed deeply at his friends absence. He brought a hand to his lips and closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly how it felt to have that hand gently ghost over his lips. Alfred could feel his heart flutter at the thought of the other boys touch…

By now the American knew he didn't view Arthur as just a friend. He saw him as something much more. He only wished that Arthur saw him as more than a friend. He wished Arthur would love him the way he loved Arthur.

Looking down, Alfred noticed that Arthur had left behind his handkerchief. His stomach did flips when he realized this. It was something Arthur owned! It was something that felt Arthur's touch!

Getting up quickly, handkerchief now in hand, Alfred hurried to his room. Once inside, the American wasted no time going to his dresser and opening his top drawer. Inside was a single pair of glasses. The very ones he wore when he was in elementary school. The ones that had been blessed with Arthur's touch.

As gently as he could, Alfred placed the handkerchief next to his old spectacles. It was a new treasure he now possessed. It was something that was once held in Arthur's warm comforting hands. And now it was all Alfred's.

Alfred knew it was probably weird to keep these things as some sort of momentous, but he was too overwhelmed with joy to care!

After all, it didn't hurt as long as Arthur didn't know…

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><p>~High School~<p>

"Alfred have you seen my tea mug?" Arthur asked as he poked his head out of his kitchen doorway.

"W-what?" Alfred stuttered.

"My tea mug. I could've sworn I left it on the table when you came over the other day but now it's gone." Arthur frowned. "I was hoping you saw where I might have misplaced it."

"Uh, n-nope!" Alfred laughed nervously. "Sorry I haven't seen it anywhere."

Arthur sighed heavily through his nose and walked into the living room where Alfred was.

"That's too bad. That one was my favorite mug." Arthur sighed. "I know I'm forgetful, but this is just getting ridiculous. First it was my pens and pencils then it was papers and notebooks now I'm losing shirts and tea mugs! It's like everything I touch vanishes into thin air."

"Heh… yeah that's so weird." Alfred replied. He refused to make eye contact with Arthur and began to rub the nape of his neck.

Alfred had every right to feel nervous, for he knew exactly where all of Arthur's possessions disappeared to.

Since that day Arthur left his handkerchief, Alfred had grown a little obsessed with wanting to own other things the Brit touched. It was something he just couldn't help. Whenever Alfred saw Arthur idly holding something, he would feel his pulse quicken and hear his heart pound in his ears. He would become overwhelmed by the thought of Arthur's gentle touch and take whatever items the Brit had set down. This would always make the American feel guilty afterwords for taking Arthur's belongings, but he found that this was the only way to sate his desire for the other. Holding onto something the other had graced with his delicate hands made Alfred feel like he was also blessed by that touch.

But Alfred knew this obsession had gotten slightly out of hand.

Over the last few years, the American had taken so many of Arthur's things (and added them to what Alfred called his "Collection") that he had to buy a trunk to be able to fit everything in his room!

"Perhaps I need to become more organized." Arthur mused aloud, thus pulling Alfred out of his thoughts. "The school isn't going to want to keep me as Class President if I keep forgetting things." Arthur's eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"Don't say that." Alfred said turning his full attention back to Arthur. He hated it when the Brit looked distressed. "You're the best Class President the school has ever had. Don't think that just because you lose a few pens and papers means you aren't a good President."

What Alfred said must have helped, for Arthur's brows unfurrowed and his frown was replaced with a fond smile.

"Thank you Alfred. It means a lot to have you say that." Arthur said looking gratefully at his friend.

Alfred smiled back, thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving from Arthur. Until Arthur looked away with a blush and coughed awkwardly.

"So anyways…" Arthur continued as he steepled his fingers together. "You are probably wondering why I asked you here."

"Does this have anything to do with the Avengers initiative?" Alfred asked playfully. He laughed at his own joke until Arthur gave him an exasperated look.

"No." Arthur said in business-like voice. "This is about the school dance."

Alfred immediately became more alert.

"School dance?" Alfred asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. I understand that you aren't going with anyone, correct?" Arthur asked.

"N-no! I wasn't going with anyone." Alfred said as he leaned forward eagerly.

"Good." Arthur smiled. "Because I had a question to ask you…"

Alfred grinned widely as hope filled his heart. Arthur was going to ask him to the dance! It was like a dream come true and the American could barely contain his excitement.

"Would you mind helping the student council prepare for the dance?" Arthur asked.

Alfred's smile dropped.

"What?"

"I'm sorry to ask you this, but we are kind of on short hand putting everything together because some of the other members want to spend the whole day with their dates." Arthur explained. "So do you think you could help?"

Alfred felt like his heart had been torn in two. He had gotten his hopes up that Arthur was going to ask him to the dance and now that hope had been obliterated. The Americans first instinct was to tell Arthur "no" because he sure as hell didn't want to help set up a dance for other couples to be happy together while he had a miserable time…

But Arthur seemed very expectant for an answer, and Alfred couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Sure." Alfred answered with a strained smile. "I don't mind helping you out."

"Oh! Thank you so much." Arthur sighed in relief. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing this."

"Yeah, no problem." Alfred said sadly. He lifted himself off the seat and headed towards the front door. He didn't want to stay here any longer. "I better get going. Matt said he needed some help with some math homework."

"Oh, a-alright." Arthur stuttered in surprise. He didn't expect for Alfred to leave so soon. But he immediately followed the other blond to the front door. "Well, thank you again. I'll text you the details for the dance later."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but was immediately cut off when Arthur unexpectedly wrapped his arms around the American. Alfred's heart beat loudly in his chest as heat spread throughout his entire body.

"Thank you again." Arthur said. He pulled away with his cheeks dusted pink. "You're a fantastic friend."

"It's no problem." Alfred replied with a smile. "I'm happy to help you out."

With his heart suddenly feeling much lighter than it did before, Alfred waved goodbye and went on his way. He might not have been asked out to the dance, but at least he got to feel Arthur's comforting touch again.

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><p>Alfred's eyes swelled with tears as he remembered all of those times Arthur and his touch brought happiness and light into his life. They were fond memories but they were almost too painful to think about now that Arthur was with someone else.<p>

He and Arthur had met the man while they were touring the college they had chosen to go to. Alfred immediately disliked the Frenchman when he boldly asked Arthur out on a date. Arthur refused the first several times but, much to Alfred's dismay, Arthur finally agreed.

Which lead Alfred to where he was now. He had followed the couple around the entire night and watched in horror as Arthur seemed to enjoy his time with… _Francis_.

Alfred would fume every time the Frenchman touched Arthur, and he would cringe whenever Arthur's hand unintentionally brushed against Francis'. It was especially hard seeing his beloved Brit hug the other man and invite him into his apartment.

_Urgh_! Who knew what that man was doing to Arthur or even how long he would be stay…

The door opened.

Alfred immediately sat up straighter when he saw the door to Arthur's apartment open. Francis walked out alone with a slight smile on his face that made Alfred's gut twist.

Francis had only been inside for 10 minutes, but that was 10 minutes too many for someone else to be alone with _his_ Arthur.

Very quietly, Alfred started the car and began to follow Francis.

The Frenchman swaggered down the sidewalk. Oblivious to the fact that he was being stalked by an overly jealous American.

"_How dare he…_" Alfred thought angrily. "_How dare this man come out of no where and steal _my_ Arthur away from me!_"

Anger and hatred for this man bubbled from deep within him. But amidst his anger towards the man, an idea came to Alfred. A horrible gruesome idea…

"Hey Francis!" Alfred called out to the Frenchman as he pulled his car close to the other man.

Francis looked startled at first but he quickly recovered and his face broke into a grin.

"Arnold!" Francis greeted. "I didn't expect to see you around here."

"It's Alfred actually." Alfred replied with a strained smile. "I was just in the neighborhood and noticed you walking around. Need a lift?"

"Ah! A ride back to moi _maison_ would be most helpful, mon ami." Francis beamed.

"Cool. Hop right in and I'll take ya where you need to go." Alfred said.

Francis sauntered around the front of the car and entered through the passengers side. After another thanks and directions to the frenchman's house, Alfred pulled away from the curb and drove on.

"So…" Alfred said trying to talk like his normal self around the Frenchman, but he felt very tense and anxious speaking to him. "I heard you went on a date with Arthur Kirkland tonight. How did that go?"

Alfred tightly gripped the steering wheel to prepare himself for Francis' reply.

To his surprise, Francis sighed over dramatically and replied, "I thought it was going so well. Arthur didn't act as grumpy as he usually does. But at the end of the date, he just hugged me and told me he wanted to remain friends."

Alfred loosened his grip and relaxed his tense shoulders. He felt somewhat relieved that Arthur didn't want to go any further with the Frenchman.

"But I shan't give up on that feisty Brit just yet." Francis proclaimed with a smug smile. "I was able to convince him to invite me into his apartment and I even coaxed a kiss from him. If I can do that than surely I convince him to go out on a few more dates… and who knows where that may lead." The Frenchman wiggled his eyebrow suggestively.

Alfred's anger flared once again.

This man obviously wanted to be with Arthur for one reason, and there was no way in hell Alfred was gonna let this Frenchmen get what he wanted from Arthur.

"Um… Alfred? This isn't the way back to my home." The Frenchmen remarked as he looked out the window at the unfamiliar streets.

"Oh sorry." Alfred said smiling his best smile at the other blond. "I need to stop by my place to get something important. It'll only take a minute and I can drop you off afterwords."

Francis looked displeased but didn't press the matter. After all, Alfred was going out of his way to give him a ride home… or so it seemed.

A minute later, Alfred pulled into his driveway.

"This will only take a moment." Alfred said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. "But if you want you can come in and get a drink or something."

Francis pondered over the invitation for a moment before deciding to follow Alfred's suit and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"I see no harm in coming in for a bit." Was Francis' reply.

Alfred smiled slyly and eagerly invited the Frenchman into his home. Once inside, Alfred locked the door behind them.

From that point on, Alfred couldn't entirely remember what happened.

All the American could remember was seeing red as he let his burning hatred for the other man take over.

Flashes of the Frenchman screaming in agony would come to mind if Alfred concentrated hard enough. He could even remember the hard cool feel of his blade's handle as he used it to chop and slice away at the other man as if he was no more than an inanimate object.

Whatever else happened, Alfred couldn't remember. But now that the haze had lifted, Alfred could properly see the result of his vengeful rage.

Bright crimson colored blood dripped down from his hands and onto the floor. What was left of the Frenchman was now scattered in bloodied piles around Alfred's room.

Without even flinching, Alfred bent down to pick up what appeared to be Francis' right hand… the very hand that dared to touch Arthur.

But now that Alfred looked at the hand, he didn't feel angry as he once had. Instead he felt thrilled! For now, Alfred no longer saw it as a threat. He merely saw it as another object that had been graced by Arthur's delicate touch.

With that thought in mind, Alfred gathered Francis' remains off of his blood-stained floorboards and placed them into his trunk of items once touched by Arthur. They were now a part of Alfred's Collection.

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><p><strong>Poor Francis. I feel bad that I kind of have him as the bad guy in most of the stories I write. <strong>

**Anyways, thanks for reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you think of this story. n_n**

**Oh! And for those of you who have been wondering about Scailai Dragon please don't worry! Yamiyo and I have not abandoned that story or our other dragon story. We have just been unable to continue writing. But hopefully that will change soon. Thank you for your patience and reviews. They mean a lot to us.**


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